He blinked and turned, and we were suddenly moving. The short ride seemed a year long as his gaze kept shooting to me. My expression was a mask over secrets he’d never know.
The doors parted, and I stepped out, leaving him staring. I didn’t have to look back to know he watched me until the moment I disappeared inside my apartment. Let him figure it out, jerk off a few loads, and find a passive plaything. I wasn’t that girl, and he wasn’t my guy. The sooner that sank in for the both of us, the sooner our lives would find balance again.
I toed off my tennis shoes and flinched as a fist pounded on my door. “Open the door, Avery.”
What. The. Fuck?
Couldn’t he take a hint?
He pounded again. “Avery.”
My heart jerked. This never happened before. I never had a guy literally refuse to accept no for an answer. I slowly crept to the entrance, standing where my feet wouldn’t cast shadows.
He banged his fist again, and I flinched again. “I know you’re in there. You’re hiding.”
I wasn’t hiding. Was I? I forced myself to say something.
“Go home, Noah.”
Silence.
I lifted to my toes and peeked through the peephole, only to find him hunched around my doorframe, shoulders taut, as he bore down on my only escape. My heart did a cartwheel in my chest as I sagged back against the wall. Why wouldn’t he give up?
Hiding my uncertainty, I took on a somewhat cocky, unaffected tone, thinking indifference might be my greatest weapon in this war. “Go rub one out, and you’ll be fine.”
His chuckle scraped along my every nerve like gravel. “Why don’t you give me a hand?”
I rolled my eyes but took another step back. He was wearing me down, and I wasn’t used to making excuses.
Disappointed in my wavering, I lifted my chin. “That’s never going to happen. Go home. I have things to do, and I’m not letting you in.”
“Pussy.”
He was using my word, yet the way he let it roll off his tongue… It curled around me and tangled up my insides.
Knots of confusion throbbed with need and curiosity. “That’s not going to work this time. Go home.”
“Fine. But you can’t hide forever, Avery. Eventually, I’ll find you, and you’ll regret every minute you made me wait.”
He didn’t deliver the promise as a threat. It hit my chest like an absolute guarantee, a punishment issued in a vow before delivery, and I shivered, wondering if he had the balls to dare to kiss me again.
Next time, I wouldn’t be so gentle. Flirting seemed harmless and fun, but in the end, it was dangerous and a little too tense where Noah was concerned.
No one said anything for a few seconds. Creeping back to the door, I peered through the peephole again, only to find the hallway empty. I should have been satisfied, but my gut tightened with disappointment. Part of me enjoyed the torment a little too much. The ease of chasing him away instantly diminished part of my interest. That was the moment I realized I wanted Noah to like me, even if I couldn’t like him back.
14
Avery
Signing up for classes was always a hassle, but there was a quiet satisfaction in seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Almost finished and then I could go where I wanted, be what I wanted, and never think of the girl I left behind. Avery Dean Mudd would finally be a forgotten memory.
As I printed out my spring roster, there was a knock at the door. I frowned because it was the middle of the workday, and the building was usually empty at this time.
Peeking through the peephole, I smiled at the sight of flowers. They must be from Micah. He usually sent flowers at the end of each semester and on other special occasions.
Opening the door, I greeted the deliveryman with a smile.
“Ms. Johansson?”
“Yes.”
“These are for you.”
They were gorgeous. Sprays of vibrant lilies mixed with enormous sunflowers and eucalyptus sprigs and full bloom roses. “Thank you.”
I tipped him and shut the door, carrying the heavy arrangement to my dining room table. He’d really outdone himself this time.
Pulling out my phone, I sent Micah an email.
* * *
They’re BEAUTIFUL. Thank you!
* * *
A minute later, my phone rang, Micah’s name flashing on the screen. I answered with a smile. “You’re so sweet.”
“I’m flattered but confused. Mind filling me in, sweetheart?”
I frowned. “The flowers. They’re lovely.”
“Avery, I didn’t send you flowers. Do they not have a card?”
My smile fell. I searched the large arrangement for a card and found one stuffed deep in the back—not from Micah. I majorly screwed up. “Oh, no…”
“Did you find one?”
“I’m so sorry, Micah. I made a mistake.”
He was silent for a beat. “Apparently, I have some competition. I’ll have to send something more impressive than flowers next time. I assume you have another call to make.”